Thirst

The first line of this short story is from the novel, “Snap” by Belinda Bauer.

 

"And the worst thing about it was he had failed just when he needed to make a stunningly good first impression.". And so, he blamed himself as he roamed. This was something he craved. He wanted it from every cell of his blood, from every sinew of his veins, from the depths of his soul, or whatever he had for that. Months of planning all laid to waste.

 

He can still recollect the first time seeing her. She was coming towards him among the crowd. Of course, not to him, but in passing by towards the railway station. He was hooked. As she glided by him, he turned and kept turning. She felt his eyes and turned towards his way but could not notice him. He gave a slight smile, pursed lips hiding his teeth. 

 

He trailed her, hiding in plain sight. Her rosy skin attracted him. He had not been with anyone for quite a while. He was roving alone, the pangs growing stronger. He wanted her to be with him, to be his companion, to be his succour. With her flushed form, he imagined the day when she would join his world, be his support and nourishment and they can forever flit across the worlds.

 

Now he started following her daily. After few weeks, he knew her routine. He planned to bump into her with a reason instead of an excuse. He wanted to make a very good impression the first time. That happened soon one day at dusk.

 

She was walking while talking on her phone. A thief snatched her phone and ran. She fell down and fainted. No one could catch the thief. Or the thief thought so, for he ran faster than anyone else. The thief turned into a dark alley reaching for safety in the darkness but bumped into him. He hit the thief on the face, pulled him towards him and pried the phone from him. While the thief tried to put him on a hold, he bit the thief who in shock let him go and ran away. With the retrieved phone he walked to her. His biting of the thief was on the spur of the moment but made him thirsty.

 

Someone helped her get up and got her water. The crowd went away slowly as she sat in a daze. He returned with the phone and gave it to her. She was surprised.

“Oh! Thanks so much, how could you get it back?”

“I just managed to anticipate well to stop the thief”

“You are bruised and there is blood in the corner of your mouth. Did the thief hit you? You should be going to the doctor”, she fussed over him. He said, “I am thirsty, I’d love to have a drink”.

“Oh, of course, I owe you at least a coffee. I know an old coffee shop nearby”.

“Sure”, he said. He was happy. Nothing better than saving someone their valuables to gain their trust.

 

It was dark now. For a coffee shop, it was surprisingly on the second floor of an old building. Two flights of steep stairs led up to the coffee shop. They started to climb the stairs. She was chatting about her work, her residence etc., mostly as she recovered from the incident. He didn’t care and didn’t listen. Anyway, he knew her well having been her shadow for the past few weeks.

 

His eyes were stuck on her nape. The dank stairs and being alone with her increased his thirst. He thought the going was good. He wanted to avail the moment. Her chatter was a chirping of a bird to him. Pleasant and meaningless.

 

The stairs led suddenly to a landing, sudden because it came into view only on the last few steps. A lonely bulb shone and reflected on a full-length ornate mirror at the entrance of the coffee shop. No one was at the entrance.

 

She said to him by way of chat, “Mirrors at the entrance are good fengshui”. His throat parched, he aware that his thirst was about to be quenched, didn’t say anything. He was waiting for the moment.

 

She was looking at the mirror admiring the gilded frame. With mouth agape, he stretched his arm to draw her into him. She suddenly screamed and with eyes wide, fled into the shop. Her jump and run startled even him. With his open mouth he came upon himself on the mirror. Just as his fangs were visible, his legs were not.

Pre-apocalyptic world?

Flames of the pandemic raging on 

Families torn asunder; rich and poor, now and gone 

The young racing the old to the grave

The living, living a thousand deaths and still brave

Curing the living and Grieving the dead 

Picking up the ruins of livelihood with dread

Arrogance of the bigoted coming home to roost

Ruling with bombast and boast as nation is toast

With nary a governance but divide and rule

Keeping the sheep stay split as their lives unspool

Foaming at the mouth even as freedom frittered away

Braying at each other with Nature at its demented way

No amount of new thoughts may match the pain

Raving and ranting as nation scrambles in vain

So sticking to the old and stealing from the greats:

If this belief from heaven be sent

If such be Nature’s holy plan,

Have I not reason to lament

What man has made of man?

As I ponder while this mayhem pours scorn

There lies a baby, green shoot, fresh and born

Happy and a toothless smile in its beautiful face

Perhaps because it knows not its religion and race

Co-opted and to be corrupted by the human race

What a waste of the nature's gift; Humanity's disgrace

"The Hill We Climb" - Amanda Gorman

When day comes we ask ourselves,

where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry,

a sea we must wade

We've braved the belly of the beast

We've learned that quiet isn't always peace

And the norms and notions

of what just is

Isn’t always just-ice

And yet the dawn is ours

before we knew it

Somehow we do it

Somehow we've weathered and witnessed

a nation that isn’t broken

but simply unfinished

We the successors of a country and a time

Where a skinny Black girl

descended from slaves and raised by a single mother

can dream of becoming president

only to find herself reciting for one

And yes we are far from polished

far from pristine

but that doesn’t mean we are

striving to form a union that is perfect

We are striving to forge a union with purpose

To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and

conditions of man

And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us

but what stands before us

We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,

we must first put our differences aside

We lay down our arms

so we can reach out our arms

to one another

We seek harm to none and harmony for all

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:

That even as we grieved, we grew

That even as we hurt, we hoped

That even as we tired, we tried

That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious

Not because we will never again know defeat

but because we will never again sow division

Scripture tells us to envision

that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree

And no one shall make them afraid

If we’re to live up to our own time

Then victory won’t lie in the blade

But in all the bridges we’ve made

That is the promised glade

The hill we climb

If only we dare

It's because being American is more than a pride we inherit,

it’s the past we step into

and how we repair it

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation

rather than share it

Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy

And this effort very nearly succeeded

But while democracy can be periodically delayed

it can never be permanently defeated

In this truth

in this faith we trust

For while we have our eyes on the future

history has its eyes on us

This is the era of just redemption

We feared at its inception

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs

of such a terrifying hour

but within it we found the power

to author a new chapter

To offer hope and laughter to ourselves

So while once we asked,

how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?

Now we assert

How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?

We will not march back to what was

but move to what shall be

A country that is bruised but whole,

benevolent but bold,

fierce and free

We will not be turned around

or interrupted by intimidation

because we know our inaction and inertia

will be the inheritance of the next generation

Our blunders become their burdens

But one thing is certain:

If we merge mercy with might,

and might with right,

then love becomes our legacy

and change our children’s birthright

So let us leave behind a country

better than the one we were left with

Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,

we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one

We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,

we will rise from the windswept northeast

where our forefathers first realized revolution

We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,

we will rise from the sunbaked south

We will rebuild, reconcile and recover

and every known nook of our nation and

every corner called our country,

our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,

battered and beautiful

When day comes we step out of the shade,

aflame and unafraid

The new dawn blooms as we free it

For there is always light,

if only we’re brave enough to see it

If only we’re brave enough to be it

 - recited on 20th January at  Biden Inaugural

The True Nobility - Ernest Hemingway

 In a calm sea every man is a pilot.

But all sunshine without shades, pleasure without pain, is not life at all. Take the lot of the happiest – it is a tangled yarn. Bereavements and blessings, one following another, make us sad and blessed by turns. Even death itself makes life more loving. Men come closet to their true selves in the sober moment of life, under the shadows of sorry and loss.

In the affairs of life or of business, it is not intellect that tells so much as character, not brains so much as heart, not genius so much as self-control, patience, and discipline, regulated by judgment.

I have always believed that the man who begun to live more seriously within begins to live more simply without. In an age of extravagance and waste, I wish I could show to the world how few the real wants of humanity are.

To regret one’s errors to the point of not repeating them is true repentance. There is nothing noble in being superior to some other men. The true nobility is in being superior to your previous self.

Amazing words. They speak to me so much. Words deserving to be said by the Nobel Laureate.

the new abnormal*

A quick hop here and a furtive peek 
Shy and abashed i slither back 
Into my place I used to hack
Everything lies still and cobwebs abound
Seeing the words I weaved and wrote
Twinge of guilt with a catch in my throat
I fondly eye my posts; the blog looks forlorn
Showing signs of fun, chatter and good times
Still evinced by the heartfelt lines
Here's to hoping for a rebirth
New shoots of posts in this bog of a blog
Grass and grains of thoughts through the fog

* title album by American rock band the Strokes

A place for my head*

Commiseration. Compassion. Empathy. Consolation. There are so many words to describe but rarely an easy way to convey. You feel for someone. Not all sufferings can be transferred or shared. Some are to be only watched as the ones you care for suffer. Still do we Indians by definition of our social norms restrict ourselves from expressing our understanding of pain and anguish. In many societies hugging is a norm. In Indian cultures even thanking sometimes feels false. It all has to be gruff and any emotions to be snuffed. The word needy has a bad connotation.

Expressiveness may increase mental health, be cathartic and in general improve relations as well. I am no researcher and cannot cite any research articles for these. But I am sure I can be backed up on this.

Or does the joint family system of yore, which provided succor to the aged, ill and the weak a better option than independent, nuclear units which are in vogue?

Sometimes we need a resting place to recover. It's mostly mental than physical. Sometimes we wish to provide one for our near and dear. But it is struck in the mind and can't get out. 

* - The title is from a Linkin Park song. 

Calico Joe

Got to read the book, "Calico Joe" by John Grisham recently. If one survives through the initial heavy baseball stuff (for a non-baseball person, that is) the book is good. It talks about the father - son relationship while taking us through the son's efforts for redemption. To know what father did for the son to try redeeming it, I leave it to the book.

A self-centered father who thinks nothing of beating up his family is shown through the son's eyes. John Grisham, in my opinion, has really taken to heavier and better topics from the days of "The Client". For all his legal expertise, his better works are "A Painted House", "Playing for Pizza" and the like. Yeah, and add this one. The one complaint is it could've been longer than it is.

Maybe he had to rush things for "The Racketeer". I am waiting for it.

The Don is back....

I typed, "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" to ensure that keyboard was not the reason that I haven't blogged for this long.

I kept switching channels on the tv thinking about my floundering virtual pets, my blogs. Slowly it dawned on me that it is the TV that is the problem. Early this year, I got myself a HD TV (LED to boot) and got addicted to it. Recording at least one hour of TV programmes per day, ensuring I finish watching the daily quota either late in the night or early in the morning - It was addiction on steroids. And still no signs of de-addiction, with new books lying unread.

This post title too is a result of getting affected (infected?) by overkill promos of Shah Rukh Khan's next movie.

Imagine my surprise last month, when I went to an acquaintance's home to see they were living without a TV!! Never knew such people existed. People!! Get a TV, I say.

Only good thing is that my shopping this year has not been restricted to TV. Got myself a 6 foot bespoke bookshelf made of real wood, no less. For all the unread books. And I am slowly becoming a pseudo hifi audiophile too (By pseudo I mean picking audiophile friends' brains and a getting good AVR & accessories while distinctly lacking appreciation).Nice show off, though.

Here is to wishing for next year (and the remainder of this year) seeing this blog being continuously updated and commented upon too.

Enough for now, gotta catch up on today's rerun recordings of "Home Improvement" & "The Big Bang Theory".

Hi! Hang in there!!

September the 13th

Today is the day I began my formal career 18 years ago. A change of life, a breath of fresh air of a career I plunged into then.


Looking back I am grateful for the amazing experiences I had, the friends I have made and sustained through the years.

Some people come prepared for their career. For me it was serendipity.

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don’t much care where--" said Alice.
"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

- Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

But the hand of God has ensured that the path I was taken was the path worth taking. Not for a moment I regret my choices, however less splendid some of them turned out to be.

The innocence may have gone, but the thrill remains. Jest for the Quest is still left.

Ringing in the New Year!!

Usually my New Year's eve days have been pretty staid ones. For example, I spent the turn of this century watching some dumb movie on TV. And for the last 2 years, all I did was just hang out with my cousin.

But for a change I decided that I'd spend this New Year by the Marine Drive at Mumbai. And how I did!!

It was a crowded place when I went there alongwith my friend. Still it was a disciplined crowd of revellers watched over by a crowd of policemen. I had a late dinner at Leopold, where a raucous crowd enjoyed the ambience. Nobody seemed to notice the bullet holes on the walls caused on 26/11. How quickly time flies. After getting mildly irritated noticing that Indians and foreigners were let in through separate entrances, I finished my dinner and left.

The New Year's day was a bit unplanned with me just catching up with some old friends, having a heavy lunch and then a siesta. But evening, I alongwith my friend, went to see Anish Kapoor's installations in the Mehboob Studios at Bandra. And what a treat it was!

I have seen (and contemplated) his Bean (officially called "Cloud Gate") in Chicago. The monstrous reflective bean shaped art installation by the Lakeside drew enormous crowd always. I have lots of photos taken of that and so was eager in visiting the first-time-in-India installations of Anish Kapoor. And I was not disappointed.

So many installations and the main theme was reflection conveyed through different objects conceptualised using bright and shiny stainless steel. Anish Kapoor brought performing arts a new dimension by his installation of a cannon from where red wax was fired at periodic intervals.

The exhibition was held simultaneously in New Delhi (NCPA) and Mumbai.

But understanding the installations (or rather interpreting your way) proved to be more easier than understanding the write-up that came in a booklet meant to help the visitors understand the art. It was highly abstruse text meant to be more high brow and snobbish than bridging the artist and the audience.

Anyway it was a great beginning. Here is to hoping the high note is the harbinger of higher notes to come.

Happy New Year of 2011!!!